


stinger

by kendrasaunders



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: F/M, S2 speculation, Tattoo Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4294905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendrasaunders/pseuds/kendrasaunders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ficlet for the tattoo scene in s2.  seth gets his tattoo touched up. kate makes an observation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stinger

It doesn’t sting any less.

He hasn’t had the thing touched up since he got it.  And he needs it touched up, so he can look at it and remember.

The remembrances are foggy.  The weight of it is not.  And the pain of getting inked is loud and clear.

“I think I should get one,” Kate says.

He’s been pretending he can’t see her.  By staring right at her, of course.  Maintaining perfect eye contact.  He’d wince, if the pain bothered him.  “You don’t want a tattoo, Kate.”

“I think I do,” Kate says.

“Why?” he asks.  “Because you’re feeling edgy?  You gonna get a-” The tattoo artist moves her needle, and he hisses.  Almost in agony.  Mostly in surprise.  “You gonna get a tramp stamp, Katie?”

She frowns.  It’s a pretty frown.  A sad one.  “No,” she says.  “I should get something like yours.”

“Don’t get something like this,” Seth says.

“Why not?” Kate says.  “Don’t I deserve one?”

He catches the glint in her eye.  And he really, really hates how clever she is.  “Nope,” he says.

“What’s yours for?” Kate says.

“None of your business,” he replies.

“Then I’ll assume it’s for everything,” she says.  “Right?  It’s a method of- What’s the word? When you whip yourself for punishment.”

Seth raises an eyebrow.

“Flagellation,” the tattoo artist says.

Kate nods.  “We learned about it in Bible Study,” she says.  “But you’re not begging God to forgive you for the plague, are you?”

“I’m not begging God for anything,” Seth says.  Nothing but Kate’s soul.

“But you are repenting,” she says.  “In a way.”

He scoffs.  “That’s your world.  Not mine.”

“I don’t have a world anymore,” she says.  There used to be an accusation in a statement like that.  Now it’s resignation.  The acceptance of a fact.

He hates it.  He hates himself for it.

“You don’t want a tattoo, Kate,” he repeats.  

“I want a tattoo,” she says.  For the first time in what feels like eons, she breaks contact with him.  “I’m eighteen.  Would you do me next?”  She’s asking the artist.  It feels like a personal betrayal.

The woman doesn’t skip a beat.  “What do you want?”

Kate purses her lips.  She’s been exaggerating her expressions, lately.  Seth feels like it’s on purpose.  To get his attention.  She has it.  She’s had it for a while.  It’s why he’s getting this damn thing touched up.

“Thorns,” she says.  “A bracelet of thorns.”  She holds up her right wrist.  So clever.  So damned clever.

“Like Jesus’ crown?” the woman asks.

“Yes,” Kate says.  “Like that.”

“Is that what you think you are, Kate?” Seth says.  “Jesus?”

“It’s not for me,” she says.  “It’s for my father.”

“Oh, he’d love that,” Seth says.  “He would really want you to get a fucking tattoo, Kate.”

“Would you shut your goddamn mouth?” she snaps.  It’s something she’s picked up from him.  Another one of his charms.  He thinks she’s cursing to damn herself.  Because she thinks of herself as already dirty.

He can’t figure out how to make her see how wrong she is.  He can’t fucking figure it out.  “I will pay you double for this touchup,” Seth says.  “If you don’t give her a tattoo.”

“Seth!” Kate says.

“I can’t do that,” the woman says.  “It’s against-”

“Triple,” Seth says.  “Triple, and I’ll take you in the back and-”

“Sold,” the woman says.  A shrug.  “Sorry, sweetheart.”

Kate balls her hands into fists.  “I’ll find someone else, then,” she says.  And he expects her to storm off but knows she won’t.  She’s still terrified to be alone without him.

He’s grateful.  He hates himself.

“You’re disgusting,” Kate tells him.  “You’re a pig.”

So stop looking at me like that, he wants to say.  Stop making me your schoolgirl crush.

It’s his own damn fault.  It’s his own fucking fault.  “I know.”

She crosses her arms.  “You’re a hypocrite, Seth Gecko.”

He wishes she could hate him for it.  He finally shuts his eyes and lets the stinging pain wash over him.  “I know, Kate.” 


End file.
